


The King's English

by Valgus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Developing Relationship, Drabble, Drama, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In high school, Hinata was on the verge of failing English subject. His perfectly-skilled-in-English but poorly-skilled-in-socialising teacher Mr Kageyama started to give Hinata private lesson in his house. Hinata loathed the pushy, foul-mouthed teacher in the beginning, but then he started seeing Mr Kageyama in a very different light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Hinata Shouyou started his first year in high school, he heard a rumour about scary English teacher. But since his class got the old and kind-hearted Mrs Nakamura for English, Hinata paid no mind to the rumour.

The next year, when Mrs Nakamura retired, she told Hinata to sleep less in class. But she also told Hinata something, which was, “Shouyou-kun, I think you can really learn from Mr Kageyama! He’ll teach all class from now on. Since he’s closer to you in age than me, I think you’ll learn better from him.”

Hinata smiled to her and said that he’d give English, his worst subject so far in high school, his best shot.

Little did Hinata know that the so-called Mr Kageyama was an absolute ass.

*)*

The girls in his class were giggling when someone mentioned Mr Kageyama’s name. They gossiped right to Hinata’s seat, so he learnt a thing or two about his new English teacher.

Kageyama Tobio was just 26, only 10 years older than Hinata, but he had been teaching English since he graduated the best Japan’s university when he was only 21. A girl talked about how Mr Kageyama used to teach in some elite private schools, considering he graduated from such famous university, but for some reason he didn’t stay in a school for long, despite his amazing teaching and English skill. Another girl talked about how Mr Kageyama was called ‘King of English’ and ‘King of Class’ because of his absolute dictatorial class he conducted. She talked about how she heard how terrible it was to have Mr Kageyama as teacher from her friend who experienced a class with him last year.

Hinata sighed. There goes Hinata’s mood to get better in English after those heart-touching conversation with Mrs Nakamura.

When Mr Kageyama entered class, Hinata knew immediately why he was popular with the girls. Mr Kageyama was really tall. He had tidy dark hair and a pair of strong-looking dark blue eyes on his considerably attractive face.

He had excellent plan for the whole year in how his students would study English. When he read a paragraph in English too, even Hinata knew that Mr Kageyama did an awesome job on it.

But he snapped at smallest noise, bark angrily to eleven students when they made tiny mistake on their pronunciation, and Hinata could tell he was very close to punching Hinata for his terrible English. 

When Mr Kageyama left, everyone practically breathed in relief.

“Ugh, I wish Mrs Nakamura returned. I know she was a little slow in teaching, but Mr Kageyama was like a storm—a terrible storm,” Izumin, Hinata’s friend since elementary school, sighed.

Hinata couldn’t agree more.

Well, at least Hinata was just suck wonderfully in English and that was just one lesson. He only needed to see Mr Kageyama for two terrible hours every week, after all.

Except that Hinata was thoroughly wrong about that.

*)*

“Hinata! Mr Kageyama called you!” said the PE teacher, Mr Sawamura.

“Eh? Why, Daichi-kun?” Hinata pouted.

Mr Sawamura glared at Hinata, “Stop calling me ‘Daichi-kun’ in school! I might be your coach in football too, but call me ‘Mr Sawamura’ when it’s still school hour.”

Hinata chuckled, “Yes, yes.”

He jogged to teacher room and found Mr Kageyama on his super-tidy table. His face was like he had seen hell, although he looked pretty much like that all the time.

Hinata wondered how someone could look so handsome when he made an expression of suffering constipation. 

“Hinata Shouyou,” Mr Kageyama turned his chair to face Hinata. “You got the lowest score for English mock test we did at the end of our first meeting.”

Hinata just laughed, “Also, Mr Kageyama, water is wet.”

Mr Kageyama looked like he wanted to swallow Hinata and then feed his remnants to lion. He sighed, “This is no laughing matter! You only got 2 for the mock test!”

“… That doesn’t so bad.”

“… Out of 100.”

“What?”

“You got score 2 out of 100.”

“Ah. I thought it was out of 10,” Hinata chuckled and started to turn around. “Well, thank you for notifying me, Mr Kageya—“

“Where do you think you’re going?” growled Mr Kageyama. From up close, he looked like the handsomest demon from the deepest pit of hell. Why oh why Hinata had to be gay and why was this terrible English teacher had to be so good-looking?

Hinata stopped, “Back to my class? Lunch time is over in 15 minutes and I haven’t finish my lunch.”

Mr Kageyama sighed, “You’re going to have a private lesson with me.”

“Wow, you’re really kind! But, no, thank you. Well! I’ll be returning to my lunch—“

“This is an order! You mustn’t fail, or else.”

Hinata blinked, “Or else what?”

Mr Kageyama’s murderous smile was all it took to Hinata for agreeing.

*)*

Hinata’s first private lesson in his empty classroom was absolute hell. After Mr Kageyama forced Mr Sawamura to let Hinata have private lesson, he kept calling Hinata ‘dumbass’, sometimes in Japanese, but mostly in English.

Now all Hinata knew was how to pronounce ‘dumbass’ in three English accents; Australian, London, and American.

And after all that, Hinata’s mock test score only climbed from 2 to amazing 4 out of 100.

Mr Kageyama really looked like he wanted to drag Hinata back together with him to hell. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Mr Kageyama eventually said and leaving without bidding Hinata ‘good evening’ or anything.

When Hinata took his bike from the parking lot, he saw Mr Kageyama left in dark, shiny car. He sighed and made plan to study English tonight.

*)*

“Hinata,” called Mr Kageyama after his class was over. “This class was going to be used by Mr Tsukishima for his math class, so we’re going to find someplace else to study.”

“Okay,” Hinata nodded, determined to show Mr Kageyama his progress from last night study.

When school was over, Mr Kageyama waited for Hinata outside his class and telling the orange-haired boy that he couldn’t find any empty class for their private session.

Hinata looked down and sighed, and Mr Kageyama made a strange coughing sound.

Hinata raised his face to see that Mr Kageyama was chuckling. 

“Hinata, are you actually sad to not have English lesson with me?” he had stopped chuckling, but his smile still lingered, and Hinata’s heart had probably stopped too.

“Uh…” Hinata looked on his shoes again, blushing furiously.

“Well, we can study at my place,” Mr Kageyama started to walk and Hinata followed him.

“Eh? But I—“

“—Ride bicycle, I know. Just tell the school guard that you’ll leave your bicycle for the night.”

“But I won’t be able to go to school tomorrow!”

“I’ll pick you up. We’re going to the same place, anyway.”

Hinata laughed awkwardly, “Isn’t this really weird? Bringing your student home?”

Mr Kageyama shrugged, “You’re a boy.”

Hinata continued his awkward laugh. A gay boy, but Mr Kageyama didn’t know that.

“Also, it’s very important for you to learn English properly. If you failed miserably, you’ll drag down my name and reputation as your English teacher.”

Hinata suddenly understood why people called Mr Kageyama ‘King’.

*)*

“So… 11 out of 100. A good progress, but still a terrible score.”

Hinata groaned into his palm.

Mr Kageyama’s place was a Western style house just outside the town. It was very minimalist, very clean, and very bland. Everything was either in black, blue, or white, but mostly white. Hinata suddenly realized that Mr Kageyama was only wearing black, blue, and white clothes too.

“Mr Kageyama, do you live alone?”

“Yes. Now, Hinata, try to read this paragraph.”

“You’re not married?”

“No. Tell me how many words you don’t understand from this paragraph.”

“Uh, like… 15?”

“That’s way too many. Underlines all of them and we’ll work on this paragraph.”

Hinata’s score rose from 11 to 12, but sunset was already on the horizon. 

Mr Kageyama stood up and stomped to the kitchen. Hinata had no energy to follow him.

“What are you doing?” yelled Hinata from his seat.

“I’m making you tea! Is black tea okay?”

Hinata only drink bottled, boxed, and canned tea from vending machine, so he yelled back, “Okay!”

Mr Kageyama made proper tea with teapot and everything.

“Oh! I know nothing about tea, but this is good,” Hinata tried to imitate the way Mr Kageyama lifted his cup from his saucer.

“Tea is good for relaxing,” said Mr Kageyama.

“Then, you better drink a lot of tea when you teach us in class, Mr Kageyama!”

Hinata could see veins popping on Mr Kageyama’s forehead. “It’s because you and your friends are so incompetent! But you’re the worst, so shut up and study harder!”

Hinata groaned, “I’m trying, okay? It’s not as fun as football!”

“Ah, yes, the sport of the world. Do you know that it’s called ‘soccer’ in America?”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Hey, we can try watch some game that has English commentator, then you’d probably learn something.”

“Probably,” Hinata grinned and finished his tea. “Mr Kageyama, why are you so good at English?”

“Because I was born in Australia.”

“Huh? Nobody told us that!”

“Why should I tell you guys?”

“No wonder you have such a high standard! Are you half-Japanese?”

“No, but my great-grandfather was from England.”

“Ah, is that why you are so tall and your eyes are slightly blue?”

Mr Kageyama went silent.

“Uh… sorry if I said something weird.”

“No,” Mr Kageyama shook his head. “It’s just… it’s been awhile since someone looked at me so close they could tell the colour of my eyes.”

“Really? So who was the last person who said it before me?”

“My ex-lover.”

Hinata reached for his cup, but it was empty. Mr Kageyama saw that and filled Hinata’s cup. 

When Mr Kageyama drove Hinata home, Hinata was sure that he might had crush for Mr Kageyama like his fellow female friends in class.


	2. Chapter 2

“Shrimpy Hinata, I know that you’re busy with the King of English, but please pay attention to my lesson as well.”

Mr Tsukishima glared down from his super-height to Hinata, who could only pouted as he looked at the number ‘63’ on the corner of his math test.

“I’m sorry. Should I take extra math lesson with you?” Hinata looked up at the bespectacled blond teacher.

“Maybe not with me,” Mr Tsukishima sighed. “You know that I was ordered by the principal to train Yamaguchi personally, right?”

“Yeees,” Hinata groaned. Yamaguchi Tadashi was probably the best math student on Karasuno High and he was going to national for some sort of math competition.

“Just focus with the King, or you might get royal punshiment,” chuckled Mr Tsukishima darkly and Hinata followed him as they walked through corridor.

“Why do you call him ‘King’, Mr Tsukishima?”

“Because he’s an elite since the beginning.”

“You know him before he moved here, don’t you, Mr Tsukishima?”

Mr Tsukishima sighed, “God, you’re noisy, Hinata.”

*)*

But for some reasons, Mr Tsukishima told Hinata to bring his lunch and joined him just outside the infirmary where Mr Tsukishima unwrapped a cute-looking bento.

(“Your bento is so adorable, Mr Tsukishima.”

“Yamaguchi’s mother make it for me everyday and somehow Yamaguchi thought it’s normal for him to bring me lunch. Well, at least I can save extra money.”)

“Mr Tsukishima! Gyah!”

Hinata looked up to the school’s doctor, a fidgety, jumpy young woman by the name of Yachi Hitoka, who was leaning on the opened window.

“Miss Yachi!” greeted Hinata.

Miss Yachi smiled to Hinata and giggled at Mr Tsukishima’s lunch, “Yamaguchi-kun brought you lunch again, huh?”

Mr Tsukishima swallowed his karaage and sneered, “Well, I’m not the only one who stuck with certain student.”

Miss Yachi sweated and looked at Mr Tsukishima, “What do you mean?”

Hinata could hear the sound of infirmary door opened followed by a, “Miss Yachi, Mr Sawamura scraped his knee when he tried to save Sugawara-kun on the gym.” Hinata peeked through the opened window and saw a third year, Shimizu Kyoko walking in with Mr Sawamura who hopped on one foot.

Miss Yachi was panicking while Shimizu-senpai calmly pointed out where Miss Yachi kept the cotton and alcohol.

Hinata took his eyes off from inside the infirmary and returned his sight to Mr Tsukishima, who had finished his lunch and was tying his bento’s cover.

“Were you teaching math somewhere before Karasuno, Mr Tsukishima?” Hinata asked.

“No, but I met Kageyama when we did teacher excursion to his elite school,” Mr Tsukishima muttered and that was the first time Hinata heard Mr Tsukishima calling Mr Kageyama by name, not with ‘King’ or anything. “You should see their school, Hinata. Even the bathroom was better polished than our hall. But even the King couldn’t stay if he was being so egocentric when he teaches. I don’t think he’s a bad teacher. He definitely has the skill, but maybe someone has to fix his attitude.”

Hinata chuckled, “I kind of understand that.”

Mr Tsukishima stared at Hinata and opened his mouth to say something, but then the bell rang, so Hinata had to run back to his class. He had Mr Kageyama's English class next. Hinata was equal excited and nervous at the same time.

*)*

“Hinata, read page 72.”

“Geh! Why, Mr Kageyama?”

“Don’t ‘geh’ me! Read it!”

After a paragraph long of misplaced pronunciation of ‘l’ and ‘r’, Mr Kageyama let Hinata sat again.

When the class was over, Hinata’s classmates were all over him.

“He wasn’t angry at you! Even though you read it terribly…”

“Yeah, even I know you read that paragraph wrong and I got 43 on last test!”

“Did something happen when you study at Mr Kageyama’s house, Hinata?”

Hinata could only smile sheepishly. 

*)*

“Mr Kageyama, today I heard about your old school from Mr Tsukishima.”

Mr Kageyama was sitting across Hinata. They were on Mr Kageyama's dining room once again. Mr Kageyama was glaring at Hinata as he raised his face from the stack of paper.

“That four-eyes bastard!” growled Mr Kageyama in English. Hinata chuckled. “Well, now you know why I left that school, even though it was such a stupid thing to do, because now I’m stuck with students like you.”

Hinata sighed and continued writing his answer. He had been writing English alphabet so much for the last few weeks that he wrote ‘Hinata Shouyou’ in alphabet instead of Kanji at Mr Tsukishima’s math test.

“He didn’t say you’re a lousy teacher, though,” Hinata continued, frowning at the paper in front of him. What does ‘immaculate’ means? He frowned some more. “He just said that you’re not good with people.”

Hinata decided to skip that particular question and moved on to the next question below it, but Mr Kageyama said nothing.

“Mr Kageyama?”

When Hinata raised his face, Mr Kageyama was staring down at the table, frozen.

“I don’t know how to communicate with people,” he finally said, sighing and staring at the kitchen’s window, with the sunset view outside. “When I first move back here, I was already tall and my Japanese was weird, but I’m already better at most subject, especially English, than most students—even teacher at some cases—so people said I’ve been showing off.

“But what else can I do? Don’t they all want to get better at studying? I guess I’ve been doing that up until university, but then I have to teach once I graduate and I found out that I’m just… really mean.”

Mr Kageyama looked at Hinata and Hinata fumbled with words, “… A-and also scary.”

The English teacher grabbed Hinata’s head from across the table and screamed profanity to Hinata’s face.

“I-I’m sorry!” pleaded Hinata. “But it’s true! Just try to be considerate a little…? Ah! Like what you did with me today at English class! You weren’t angry with me even when I read that paragraph wrong.”

“Well, that’s because I know how hard you’ve learned to read.”

“My friends are just the same! But you just don’t get to see them trying, you see. We’re not as good or as smart as you, but we try and we want to learn. Isn’t that enough, Mr Kageyama?”

For a second, Hinata thought Mr Kageyama was going to say, ‘Of course not, Dumbass!’ but his lips wobbled in what looks like an attempt to smile and then he sighed.

“Okay, Hinata.”

“Good! I’ll remind you if you were being too mean in class next time, Mr Kageyama!”

“Hinata.”

“Yeah?”

“When it’s just the two of us, you can just call me ‘Kageyama’.”

“O-okay!”

Hinata then wondered whether it would be socially acceptable to climb the table and reach for Mr Kageyama—no, just Kageyama—Kageyama’s face and kiss the hell out of the English teacher.

(Hinata knew it wouldn’t.

But he still wanted to do it anyway.)

*)*

A couple of months after that, Hinata got perfect score in final exam for English.

After running away from his friends awe and confusion, he ran to Kageyama—or Mr Kageyama at school—and showed him his result paper.

“Wow, you actually got 100 out of 100,” he said, probably more dumbfounded than Hinata’s friends.

Hinata's happiness stopped overflowing when he saw pile of pink-enveloped letters on Mr Kageyama’s table, “What is that?”

“Oh,” Mr Kageyama sighed. “Love letters from students. Ever since I try become more understanding and less shouting like you said, I started to get letters and gifts.”

“Well, you _are_ very good looking,” Hinata said, matter-of-factly.

Hinata might be imagining it, but he swore Mr Kageyama was blushing. The view was almost otherworldly, like seeing Mr Tsukishima being kind and cute or Miss Yachi being stern and mean.

Mr Kageyama sighed, his sight returned to Hinata after lingering on the pile of love letters. “I can’t date my student, though.”

Hinata froze before nodded, very slowly, “Yeah. You can’t. It’d be weird. Anyway, thanks for teaching me English for the past half a year.”

Mr Kageyama squinted at Hinata, but he said nothing even though he definitely found Hinata’s expression weird. “Hinata, are you free tonight?”

“Yes. Why? Please don’t tell me you’re going to give me extra English lesson.”

“No. I’ll treat you something to celebrate your perfect score.”

“… Okay.”

Hinata left the teacher room in silence. He repeated Mr Kageyama’s face as he said, ‘I can’t date my student, though.’ Hinata sighed and then chuckled.

 _Tonight would be the last one,_ Hinata told himself, _then I would stop having crush at Mr Kageyama._

*)*

But Mr Kageyama had appeared on his black car in very nice-looking semi-formal clothing and had smiled very charmingly to his mother and sister before he took Hinata away.

Hinata was silent for most of the journey in the car, but Mr Kageyama talked a lot and Hinata just watched at his teacher, slightly wondering why Mr Kageyama was unusually chirpy tonight.

They had delicious steak and Hinata was so full. As the night grew late, Mr Kageyama took Hinata for a little walk around the shopping area to burn down the steak they just ate. They had said nothing to each other as they walked in silence, listening to the sound of night at shopping district.

“Hinata,” said Mr Kageyama after they left the main street. Now their surrounding was dimmer and less crowded.

“Yeah?”

“I won’t teach you English again on your second year.”

“Do you get bored of me?”

“No. I’m leaving Japan.”

Hinata stopped walking, “Why? Where?” He could feel his eyes suddenly got very watery.

“I’m going back to Australia. I want to learn more about teaching English.”

“But you’re very good already,” Hinata looked up. “Just stay. Stay and teach me more.”

“Not good enough. I want to be better, not only at teaching, but also at being… well… social.”

But Hinata’s eyes finally couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and Mr Kageyama had hugged Hinata’s much smaller body.

“Don’t cry, Hinata.”

“Stupid Kageyama!” sobbed Hinata in English.

Mr Kageyama chuckled and Hinata could feel Mr Kageyama’s laughter as his cheek was squished into Mr Kageyama’s chest. “I probably shouldn’t swear so much in front of you in English.”

“You totally shouldn’t! It’s your fault! So you gotta fix this! You gotta stay!”

But Mr Kageyama pulled back and knelt so Hinata’s face was higher than his. He took Hinata’s hands and spoke, “Don’t cry. It will be okay. I want to get better because of you, Hinata. I thought I was good, but then I knew I could be better. I want to be a better person and it’s all thanks to you. Isn’t that great?”

Hinata stifled a sob. He was too sad he didn’t even realize that Mr Kageyama was saying everything in English, nor he realized he was replying in English too, “Please don’t leave me, Kageyama.”

And Mr Kageyama—no, Kageyama, brought Hinata into his arms once again and whispered about how the world is such a small place. Surely, for now, it felt big for Hinata because he was just a high schooler and his whole world was school. But outside high school, there was prefecture, country, and then the earth. One day, surely they’d meet again.

“You’ve changed me, Hinata,” Kageyama said when they both pulled back, ignoring stares from passing people. “And I will forever be in your debt.”

Hinata’s tears were still flowing, but he smiled.

*)*

Hinata didn’t go to see Kageyama left the next week.

But that afternoon, when he collected letters from the letterbox, he found stacks of paper sewn into a book on the letterbox. He found all the paper from tests he done with Kageyama, from when he got 4 to when he got 98 before a copy of the paper for perfect 100. On the last page of the ‘book’, he found neat writing in light blue paper.

 _i carry your heart with me (i carry it in_  
_my heart) i am never without it (anywhere_  
_i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done_  
_by only me is your doing, my darling)_

Scribbled underneath it was ‘i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)’ followed by ‘E. E. Cummings’.

Hinata brought the book inside with him and read Kageyama’s writing again and again. It wouldn’t be possible for him to understand it if Kageyama didn’t teach him English.

It was like Kageyama had taught him English very intensely just so that precisely at this moment, Hinata could sob into his pillow as he recalled the poem inside his head.

_I carry your heart with me—_

Hinata sobbed even harder as he imagined Kageyama walked away from him, with his big luggage and semi-casual clothes.

 _I carry it in my heart_  
_I’m never without it_

Then Kageyama would walk on that plane. Hinata had never even been on a plane before.

_Anywhere I go you go, my dear_

And Hinata swore he could give anything to get one ticket to Australia and hop on that plane where Kageyama disappeared to even when he hadn’t pack anything.

Kageyama had said that Hinata changed him.

But only now Hinata realized that Kageyama had changed him too.

_—and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling_

*)*

When Hinata became a second year, he found a postcard on his letterbox.

Scribbled beside Hinata’s house address was a very familiar neat writing.

 _A glimpse through an interstice caught,_  
_Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,_  
_Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,_  
_A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,_  
_There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word._

Next to ‘A Glimpse’ and ‘Walt Whitman’, Hinata saw an address; a flat number, an apartment name, and a street on a place called Sydenham in Sydney.

When he turned the postcard around, he saw a photograph of Sydney Opera House and another scribbling.

‘Come visit me, Dumbass,’ it said.

Hinata laughed and ran inside his house, where he begged is mother to let him do part-time job because Hinata had to save money and visit a certain stupid English teacher in Australia.

*)*

“Your English is brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

“But you caught the wrong train. Sydenham is on the opposite direction. We’re going to Circular’s Quay.”

“What???”

Hinata frantically consulted the piece of paper he had on his pocket since his flight from Miyagi.

“That’s alright, you can see the Bridge and Opera House from Circular’s Quay,” the old man in plaid chuckled to Hinata. “This is you first time in Sydney, right?”

“That’s right,” Hinata smiled and slumped back on his seat. He was tired from the long flight, but ecstatic. It had been almost three years after Kageyama hugged him on that shopping district as Hinata cried. Now Hinata was nineteen and securing a scholarship to study overseas in Australia. When he was asked whether he wanted to live alone or stay with a family, Hinata smiled and said he had a friend living in Sydney and he was wondering whether he could arrange a thing with that certain friend.

But going to that very friend’s house in Sydenham would have to wait for now, because Hinata had took the wrong train. A certain someone would scream ‘Dumbass!’ out loud to him now, but Hinata was too happy to feel down. It was winter in Japan, but it was now summer in Australia and the sky was blue and Hinata was going to see _him_ very, very soon.

He bid goodbye to the kind old man before he left the train at Circular Quay. Still dragging his luggage, Hinata walked and jumped happily to the sea, to the sky, and to the crowd around him.

_A glimpse through an interstice caught,_

Hinata saw the Opera House at the distance. It was much bigger than the photograph on the postcard suggested, somehow. He brought the postcard with him, with the address, now on his hand as he tried to compare the photograph version and the real Opera House.

_Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,_

He walked, looking up at the Sydney Harbour Bridge at the distance. Hinata then bumped into someone and yelped, “Oh!” when his photograph flew, blew by the wind of the sea.

_Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,_

The person he bumped into caught his postcard and smiled.

_A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,_

“You should tell if you were coming,” twenty-nine years old Kageyama waved the postcard he sent to Hinata years ago and smiled. He was shorter than Hinata remembered because Hinata had grew taller, but he was just as beautiful as Hinata remembered; dark hair upon slightly blue eyes and a confident smile. 

Only it was even better, because the person who stood by Hinata was the real Kageyama.

Hinata had opened his mouth, but he couldn’t say anything. Though, in the end, he really didn’t have to, because Kageyama took Hinata’s luggage by one hand and Hinata’s hand by the other, as they walked side by side in silence like they did that night after steak years ago.

Hinata squeezed Kageyama’s hand and Kageyama squeezed his hand back.

_There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan it to went that way.
> 
> Actually, I didn't plan how this would end at all.
> 
> But now that it ended, I feel rather satisfied, because I don't usually finish multi-chapter fan fiction. (I'm sorry.)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading "The King's English". If you found this interesting even just a bit, I'd be very happy.


End file.
